“That won’t do,” said the parson. “You must go at once, and leave your property to the care of others. You must leave Dunmore to-day, for ever.”
“To-day!” shouted Barry.
“Yes, to-day. You can easily get as far as Roscommon. You have your own horse and car. And, what is more, before you go, you must write to your sister, telling her that you have made up your mind to leave the country, and expressing your consent to her marrying whom she pleases.”
“I can’t go to-day,” said Barry, sulkily. “Who’s to receive my rents? who’ll send me my money?—besides—besides. Oh, come—that’s nonsense. I ain’t going to be turned out in that style.”
“You ain’t in earnest, are you, about his going to-day?” whispered Frank to the parson.
“I am, and you’ll find he’ll go, too,” said Armstrong. “It must be to-day—this very day, Mr Lynch. Martin Kelly will manage for you about the property.”
“Or you can send for Mr Daly, to meet you at Roscommon,” suggested Martin.
“Thank you for nothing,” said Barry; “you’d better wait till you’re spoken to. I don’t know what business you have here at all.”
“The business that all honest men have to look after all rogues,” said Mr Armstrong. “Come, Mr Lynch, you’d better make up your mind to prepare for your journey.”
“Well, I won’t—and there’s an end of it,” said Barry. “It’s all nonsense. You can’t do anything to me: you said so yourself. I’m not going to be made a fool of that way—I’m not going to give up my property and everything.”